Memories Forgotten
by FlyingCheeto
Summary: Fenris killed his former master's apprentice and seeks solace in Hawke. She cares for him more than he realized... but is it too much? Fairly clean one shot. Friendship romance.


**_Hey guys, so this is my first story I decided to publish on here. Obviously it's about Fenris and Hawke, and for those of you that have played Dragon Age II, my take on what happened after the event of Fenris killing Hadrianna. I was just always wondering what he was thinking when he shoved Hawke against the wall... *swoon* Ahem, anyways, this is literally my first time attempting to write in third person, so any helpful comments would be appreciated, just be nice please :)_**

**_Oh, and it's a friendship romance with a sarcastic female rogue Hawke._**

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><p><em><strong>For people who have not played Dragon Age II or just need a refresher on what happened (spoilers)**:<strong>_

_Fenris is an escaped slave who lost all his memories from before he received his lyrium markings, white tattoos that cover his body. Lyrium is a mineral that is very toxic, the equivalent of an addictive drug. It's used so mages can connect to the Fade, where the souls of the dead are said to go and where dreams take place. Demons reside here and always pray on mages since they are the ones that visit here the most. Because of the risk mages pose of becoming possessed by a demon, an abomination, templars take doses of lyrium so they are able to better control them in case something does go wrong. Mages are usually discriminated against in all of Thedas, with the exception of the Tevinter Imperium, where slavery is still legal and also where Fenris is from._

_Fenris is a character that hates mages and slavery because all he remembers is being a slave bodyguard to a Tevinter magister, Danarius, and Danarius's apprentice, Hadrianna. It is implied in the game that he was sexually abused by both of them, which, in my opinion, why he only feels "pain" when touched. However, he_ does_ feel actual physical pain because of his lyrium markings. I put emphasis on them for precisely that reason (the markings also give him a special ability to phase through solid objects, though it is only shown that it works on people). Not to mention he has PTSD. All these these things combined turned him into a broody, quiet sort that is very untrusting of anyone except Hawke, the main character you play in the game, if you develop a friendship/romance.  
><em>

_Hawke in this story is a sarcastic female rogue, as stated earlier. She has yet to absolutely hate mages, though she does agree that the majority of them should be in a circle. Her sister was found by the templars and therefore sent to the circle in Kirkwall, the city-state in which they live. Her father and brother died back in her hometown of Lothering. I feel as if she should be emotionally scared by this, but I'll do a Hawke POV of this particular scene, to be explained more in depth then. She cares deeply for Fenris and understands that he does have a lot of issues, and wants to somehow be his solace and his romantic partner- you get the picture._

_Anyhow, before the events of this scene, Fenris and Hawke were ambushed by slavers looking for Fenris to capture. They killed them after they revealed someone was looking for them that was stationed in an abandoned slave holding cave nearby. They journey to there and find that it is Hadrianna behind Fenris's attempted capture, and after she revealed that he has a living sister, he kills her by using his lyium ability to crush her heart from inside her chest. He's pissed, and completely takes his anger out on Hawke when she tries to comfort him. He leaves for a few days, then after he cools down wants to apologize to Hawke for acting the way he did._

_(Hawke's malbari is mentioned, it's a very smart war dog. Bodahn and Sandal are two surface dwarves, with Sandal being the adopted son of Bodahn. Sandal got lost in the deep roads, very large and dangerous underground tunnels, and Hawke found him. Now Bodahn is repaying Hawke by being her manservant. Leandra is Hawke's mother.)_

_Sorry that was so long; hopefully if you haven't played the game you understand it more than before._

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><p>Fenris pounded on the door of Hawke's estate. He needed to tell someone. But not anyone. Just Hawke. She would understand. She would listen.<p>

The seconds seemed to drag on longer and longer as he stood in anticipation on the doorstep. He couldn't get the images of Hardrianna out of his head; how she finally bended to his will like he always had to hers. The years of abuse and torment would never leave his mind. How was it possible that Danarius could just stand and watch without feeling the slightest tinge of guilt? Oh, but his day would come soon enough. The feel of his hand finally crushing his maker-forsaken heart would-

"Oh, hello Fenris!" Bodahn opened the door and greeted with a smile. "Are you here to see Hawke?"

_What other reason would I have? _Fenris took a breath before responding. He had to calm down. "Yes. Is she...here?"

"Why yes she is. You're welcome to wait inside while I fetch her, if you'd like." The dwarf gestured towards the interior. "May I offer some wine? I think she still has a bottle of that special Tevinter brand you gave her not too long ago."

Fenris was about to accept the offer, but then thought better of it. "No. I'm fine." He needed to have a clear head.

Bodahn led him through the entry hall. "Take a seat anywhere you'd like. Now if you would be so kind as to wait a moment while I go get the messare."

Fenris nodded with Bodahn reciprocating the action as he exited the hall.

He took a seat on one of the wooden benches, the only one with chew marks. Even though the marks were made by Hawke's malbari, they reminded him of his old cot back in Seheron. It was such a joy to be free back then, to not have to fear of Danarius's return and know for certain you had allies that would give their lives for you. But it was all a lie. Those Fog Warriors would've killed him. After all, who would want an elf? An elf that could not control his emotions when they clouded his better judgment. An elf that could- did- turn on them when ordered to.

Did he even deserve to be free? Was it worth it? The way everyone's' intrigued yet disgusted gazes met his as he walked the streets of Kirkwall always sent chills and throbbing anger down his spine.

The only person that did not look at him strangely was Hawke. She accepted him for who he was, proving that when she visited him time and again. These past three years with her were beyond imagination. The countless adventures they went on, the stories she had of her childhood, she always _listened_ to him as he rambled on and on of his hatred of mages and slavery. She opened up an unknown part of Fenris that wasn't all cold and condescending. And it was only because of her.

So why had he acted so harshly? She wanted to be there for him, and he turned her down. He could not forget the broken look in her eyes when he made that last comment about mages. _"What has magic touched that it doesn't spoil?" _Of course there was Bethany, Hawke's sister, confined to the circle. How could he be so careless to admit that? Hawke loved her, and over time even he developed a moderate liking for the young mage. Although he didn't agree that she should be allowed to roam free and travel with the group, it was still an inappropriate comment to say.

Fenris sighed and leaned back against the wall. His lyrium markings constantly pained him, today in particular. Whenever he used his so-called "special ability," the pain he suffered would always magnify. It had always been like this. On the contrary, it was never said that revenge did not come without a price.

Again, he relived Hadrianna's death. He won this battle. It was him that took the final blow and crushed her heart with his own hand.

He hated her. How was it allowed that she could get away with everything she did? The way she touched him... abused him... and he was powerless.

A shadow cast itself down the entry hall. Looking up, Fenris saw Hawke standing in the archway.

He wasted no time as he stood up and immediately spoke.

"I've been thinking about what happened with Hadrianna," he hesitated. "I took out my anger on you, undeservedly so. I was... not myself. I'm sorry." Fenris held his hand slightly over his mouth, as if to stop himself quickly if he'd said something foolish.

He braced himself for the anger. Surely she could not forgive him after that. After the way he shrugged away her hand like it was nothing, then preceded to bolt out of the holding caves, not informing anyone of his location for days.

"I had no idea where you went, I was concerned," Hawke met Fenris's gaze with pure sincerity.

His eyes widened as her words shocked him. He had not expected this. Her... concerned for him? He did not deserve forgiveness. But maybe this wasn't forgiveness. This was just her way to prepare herself for the lecture she was about to give.

No, that wasn't Hawke. Fenris could tell her anything, like he told her of the Fog Warriors. She understood.

"I needed to be alone," he paused. "When I was still a slave, Hadrianna was a torment. She would ridicule me, deny my meals, hound my sleep. Because of her status, I was powerless to respond and she knew it. The thought of her slipping out of my grasp now... I couldn't let her go. I wanted to, but I couldn't." It was true that for a moment he wanted Hadrianna to live, to have her experience what he had experienced for as long as he could remember. But the anger raging inside of him thought differently. He went back on his word, promising to let her live, and instead he killed her after she informed him of his sister's location.

"What do you mean?" Hawke replied, again with the same sympathy and sincerity as before. It was strange; she was always coming up with witty and sarcastic comments no matter the situation. Very rarely was she ever serious about anything. Fenris knew it was only a mask that she felt to be believable, but he never brought it up. She would find the strength to confide in him with time, or maybe another one of the companions, like Varric or even Aveline. Sometimes he wondered if he was the only one that knew this about her.

He thought of the best way to respond to her question. Anything but that of which would make him sound helpless, which he knew he sometimes was. "This hate... I thought I'd gotten away from it. But it dogs me no matter where I go. To feel it again, to know it was they who planted it inside me... it was too much to bear."

Hawke didn't need to hear this. He sought friendship and companionship, but was that what she was? A friend? She had her own dealings; she didn't have time to listen to his problems time and time again.

"But I didn't come here to burden you further." Fenris turned and walked away slowly, with a newfound ache that was for once not because of the lyrium. He felt alone.

"You don't need to leave, Fenris." Hawke grabbed him by his arm, the only part of his body that was not covered by armor.

Flashbacks to his life in slavery took hold. Hadrianna grabbing him... using him.

He closed his eyes, turned and pinned her against the wall. She would never _do_ that to him again.

But there was no pain where he was being touched. There was warmth. Comfort.

He opened his eyes and saw only Hawke. Her blonde hair, always put up into a ponytail so it wouldn't be as easily pulled on during combat. The way she had her makeup, dark shadows around her bright green eyes to make her look more menacing to enemies. They were almost the lightest shade of green there was, however growing darker as Fenris continued to stare. Her lips were the perfect shape; sometimes he could not take his eyes off them as she talked. Whenever she said something witty, which was often, they would always pull up into a perfect crooked smile, increasing his infatuation. She was beautiful.

This feeling... What was it? Desire? Compassion?

Hawke smiled a full smile- rare since Bethany was taken- and closed the distance between them.

Fenris was so stunned by this, he didn't even fight back when she grabbed and shoved _him_ against the wall.

Her lips were so soft. It was like there had never been any pain before. There was only her.

He slowly ran his hands up her back, feeling her muscular, lean frame under the red finery she wore around her estate.

He never thought she felt this way. Yes, they would have their quick exchanges now and again, but he always figured that she felt for Anders.

By Andraste, that mage. He always looked at Hawke like she was something to be coddled and used. It was to Fenris's relief that Hawke never gave in to his advances, at least when he himself was in the room. Of course Isabela made her usual comments about the two, and occasionally Varric would cast Anders a disappointed glance as he tried to move in on Hawke.

But he still needed to ask. "Anders..."

She pulled back momentarily. "What about Anders?"

"Aren't you and him...?"

Hurt clouded her expression. "You honestly don't think that I feel for him, do you?"

"I just always thought-"

"Not even if the next Blight left us the last two people in Thedas would I ever consider him. I would only consider you." She kissed him again with more force.

"Hawke-"

"Maker, Fenris." She pulled away. Her face fell as her voice grew softer. "Do you not want to be here?"

"Of course I want to be here. With you." He ran his hand along her face, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

She blushed and bit her lip, trying to contain her giggle. "Fenris," Hawke smiled. "Come with me."

"Where?" He was curious.

"I want to show you something." She held his hand as she led him into the library of her estate. Books piled the shelves and a warm fire was roaring on the right side of the room, with a disturbing Tevinter-looking statue above it.

"That statue..." Fenris started.

"What about it?"

"It reminds me..."

"Are your memories...?" A hopeful gleam appeared in Hawke's eyes.

Fenris closed his eyes for a moment. No matter how much he wished they could, his memories of before he was a slave would not come back. They were permanently erased from his mind.

"No." He looked at Hawke and gave a little half-smile. "That statue reminds me of some of the Old God relics they had in Tevinter. Come to think of it, why did you put that wretched thing up?"

Hawke raised her hand to her chest in mock astonishment. "Insulting my choices in decoration now, are we?"

"Yes," he chuckled. "It almost takes my gaze away from the most beautiful thing in the room." Fenris stared at Hawke, all seriousness returning to his tone.

"Almost? Dammit, I need to get rid of it then." She walked over to where it was hanging from the wall. "Wait, when did I get this statue?"

"Didn't your uncle mention losing the mansion to slavers? No doubt from them," he growled. Slavers. They were vile beings, thinking they could capture just about anyone and sell them for coin in Tevinter. That horrid, indescribable place... he would be sure to never go back there... to Dararius... again.

"Fenris," Hawke returned to his side. "I can get rid of it, if that's what you want."

"No, I just..." He cleared his throat. "Weren't you taking me somewhere?"

She studied him carefully, running her hand over the shoulder blade of his armor back down to his hand. "Well, I wanted to give you something."

"Oh, no. You have already given me too much. The book of Shartan was enough." He recalled the day she walked into his mansion and practically shoved the book into his hands. Slaves were not taught to read in the Imperium, so Fenris knew he sounded ungrateful when he'd accepted the gift. Luckily Hawke was now giving him reading lessons as much as she could, for which he would be forever thankful.

"No, this is nothing like that," she laughed and shook her head. "Wait here." She pulled away.

"Hawke..."

"Shhh, stay. And take off those blasted gauntlets while you're at it. I'm fairly certain there'll be no dragons creeping in the shadows."

He removed his gauntlets while watching her practically bounce up the stairs, which he knew only led to a wine cask and a couple more bookshelves. There was no stopping her once she put her mind to something.

That was one of the qualities he loved about Hawke. She was determined, and could always bring a little brightness to any situation, even his own.

"Oh, Fenris!" A voice startled him out of his thoughts. "What a lovely suprise!"

He turned around and faced Leandra, Hawke's mother. They did not look that much alike other than their facial structure, so Fenris had always assumed that Hawke inherited her looks from her father. A bloody apostate mage, if he remembered correctly. "Good evening, Lady Amell."

"Was Hawke with you?"

"Right here, mother," Hawke came trotting down the staircase and over to where the two were standing.

Leandra's blue eyes lit up as soon as she saw her daughter. It was no secret that the death of Hawke's father and Carver, her brother, haunted her on a daily basis. Bethany being sent to the circle only amplified her pain. "I was wondering, have you received any letters from Bethany recently?"

"No, I have not. Mother, it's only been a day since she sent the last one."

Leandra's face fell. "Oh... I'll... retire to my chambers, I suppose. Sweet dreams, my dear." She kissed Hawke on the cheek and left the room, not acknowledging Fenris at all.

"I've been meaning to ask, how is Bethany?" he spoke softly.

"She's okay. The Circle is where she has to be." There was no masking the longing in Hawke's voice. She and her sister were very close. "But that's not what I dragged you here for. I want you to have this." She handed him what looked like a miniature shield with the Amell family crest painted in red on the front.

"Thank you. I'm grateful but... what is it?"

"It is- was- Carver's. He was in the Battle of Ostagar."

"And you want me to have it?"

"Yes. I don't know who else to give it to... It would just be another reminder to my mother about how he died... and you're the closest thing I have. So here, take it. Please."

"I will wear it gladly." Fenris tied the crest to the waistline of his armor, but he noticed there were two red pieces of cloth while he only tied it with one. "Is there a reason for the extra fabric?"

"Carver used to wear it on his arm from time to time. Probably as extra reinforcement?" she wondered. "Does it come off?"

"Yes. Here," he handed the cloth back to Hawke.

"Hey, not so fast." She grabbed the red fabric and tied it around Fenris's wrist. "Consider it my... favor to you."

Her favor? He could not help but smile. "Thank you, Hawke." He truly appreciated this. Her.

"My pleasure." She reached up and kissed him, her soft lips molding perfectly to his.

He slowly ran his hands through her hair. It was so soft... but in a ponytail.

"Why do you always wear your hair like this?" he asked.

She cocked her eyebrow at him. "Do you have a problem with it?"

No, no why would she think that? He loved it. "Of course not. I would only think it to be uncomfortable after wearing it like this for so long."

She laughed and shook her head, then reached up and pulled out the band that was keeping her hair together. It was a cascade of beautiful blonde hair that reached a few inches past her shoulders. He had never seen her with her hair down like it was.

"You're a beautiful woman, Hawke," Fenris blurted before he could stop himself. All the practice he had keeping his thoughts to himself because of Danarius seemed to disappear.

"Well, little elf," Hawke smiled, "I believe you're the, what, fifth suitor who has said that today? Maybe sixth?"

Was he really? He believed it. Because she was.

"Fenris, you really need to learn when I'm joking. In fact, you're the _only _one who has said that so far."

How could anyone not have said that to her before? She was something out of his dreams; something that he watched from afar, but could never quite reach. And yet, she was standing in front of him. And he was touching her.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, as she must've been wondering why he was looking at her so intently.

"How could someone like you possibly want someone like me?" He had to be just another plaything, despite his instincts telling him differently. Strange that after relying on them for as long as he could remember, he was actually doubting them now.

"Someone 'like' you? You'd be happy to know that you're the only person I've seen with lyrium markings covering their body."

Fenris glared. "That's not what I meant. I meant-"

"Yes, I know what you meant. We _just _went over this." She jokingly rolled her eyes.

"Oh," he cleared his throat. He did not know what to say.

A moment of silence passed until she spoke again. "After all this time we've spent together, how could you honestly think that any part of you repulses me? That I don't want you? I've watched you for three years, admiring you. This passionate hate you have for Danarius... I've thought about it. The pain that I see in your eyes whenever you talk about him I do not fully understand only because I have not lived as his slave. But now I almost do. When you looked at Hadrianna I could finally almost grasp the amount of torture you had to endure. I was afraid. Afraid for you. Then when you left..." She choked on her last words, "I thought you had left me for good."

"Hawke..." Was this pity? No, this was understanding. He reached up and stroked her cheek. "I could never leave you." And he meant it. He would die inside if he ever left her. Especially now.

Maybe it was possible for him to be happy. Although he could not quench his desire for revenge, the happiness that Hawke brought him could overshadow it... even if it was only for a little while.

Right now, there was nothing he wanted more.

Fenris wrapped his arms around and held her tightly, not making any moves to let her go.

He didn't know how long they stood there like that, embracing. He would've never thought that he could have this, that he could _need_ this as much as he did. It was still a new feeling to him, somehow trying to push out the hate and anger he'd held onto for so long.

Hadrianna was gone. That was one less mage to worry about. One less Tevinter magister. This could be possible.

"Are you sure about this, Fenris?" Hawke asked with obvious uncertainty.

He pulled back for only a moment to look at her face. He took his hand and cupped her chin. "I need you, Hawke."

She smiled again and kissed him in the same fashion as before, but only with more urgency.

The electricity he felt on his arms was not painful in the slightest, strange since pain was all he used to feel when touched.

This... Now this was an indescribable feeling.

Hawke suddenly pulled away. "Hold on," she whispered.

She walked to the entrance to the library and looked around the main hall. She then gestured for Fenris to come over by holding out her hand out behind her.

He cautiously stepped over behind Hawke.

She turned and saw him, and then a disappointed expression came across her face.

Hawke quickly and forcefully grabbed his hand, which he couldn't help but let out a little chuckle. He loved it when she was like this, determined with just a hint of anger and annoyance.

"Quiet," she snapped.

He immediately stopped smiling and his usual stoic expression returned to his face.

She tugged him forward, and he followed her as she crept up the stairs of the main hall towards her mother's room and her bedroom.

"Good evening, Messare!" Bodahn emerged from Hawke's chambers. "Your chamber pots have been emptied, bed sheets replaced, and your fire stoked. Is there anything else I can do for you?" His eyes flicked over to Fenris with a knowing glance.

"No, that would be all, Bodahn. Thank you."

"It's all I can do to repay you, Messare. I'll be downstairs if you change your mind."

Ah, Fenris remembered first meeting the dwarf and his savant son, Sandal, three years ago. They had been standing in the merchant's guild commons, and a curious Hawke had chatted with them for a few quick moments. They had apparently traveled with the Hero of Ferelden, the Grey Warden that slew the Archdemon about three and a half years ago, stopping the fifth Blight before it truly began. Now she was married to King Alistair and they ruled over Ferelden together.

Bodahn and Sandal had assisted in the expedition that Varric's brother, Bartrand, lead down in the Deep Roads. Hawke, Fenris, Anders, and Varric had accompanied him until he ultimately betrayed them by locking them in the Primeval Thaig, all for a blasted lyrium idol. It was by mere chance that they managed to escape with their lives. But now was no time to think of that.

Hawke pulled Fenris into her bedroom, closing the door behind them. She then turned to face him, again closing the little space there was between them.

It was a different kind of kiss. One that was a mixture of lip and tongue, fast yet slow at the same time. He felt the outline of her body pressed up against his, still underneath her red finery.

She ran her lips up his neck, kissing the two lines of his lyrium markings on his chin then back to below his ear. He had never felt anything like this before. It felt... good.

"Fenris," Hawke said in between breaths, "do your lyrium markings cover your _whole_ body?"

"They do."

"Well... Can I see?" Curiosity was leaking from her tone.

And be vulnerable, susceptible to any raids that could take place at any moment? But looking at her, he realized he would gladly take that risk.

"I suppose." He stepped back and started to unbuckle his chestplate."Why, if I may ask?"

Hawke's face turned a shade of red that was similar to that of red lyrium. Was she embarrassed?

She cleared her throat, "Because I want to see you, Fenris. I want to know what he did to you. Danarius, I mean."

He spit on that name. His former master would soon pay for what he had done.

He sighed as he took off the last piece of his chestplate. Hawke just stared until she managed to finally say something.

"You're... beautiful..." she whispered.

He looked at his hands, markings covering even them. Somehow, he didn't feel that there was anything beautiful about the brands. They were just a part of him.

Her hand began tracing the path of the lyrium swirling around his chest and back. He shivered. His flesh was sensitive. Almost no one had touched him here, except for Hadrianna and Danarius. And now Hawke.

"What did they do to you?" Hawke murmured. She ran her hand through his hair and hugged him tightly.

_You don't want to know._ He stood there... remembering. All the things he had to do to please Danarius and Hadrianna. All the... he couldn't bear to think it. That was the one thing Hawke might not understand.

"Oh, Fenris." She gripped him harder. "Do you want to forget?"

Did he? He knew what it was like to have all memories erased. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember anything. Was there such thing as family? As friends? Who was he? A different person than he was now? Maybe he wasn't a slave...

But then there were the things he actually did remember. Danarius, Hadrianna and all the horrid Tevinter magisters. But then, without them, he wouldn't be the man he was today. He was not a horrible person, just one with hate. Lots of it. But under that hate, there was room for something else, somehow. It would be easier if there was no hate at all. But the only way there could be no hate is if he killed Danarius. If he had his memories before he was a slave to that monster. Or if he forgot everything.

"Yes..." He could not lie to her. He knew what she was offering, only all too well.

He gently grabbed her face and kissed her fiercely, just then noticing her eyes were watering. Why was she about to cry? She had no reason to cry.

Instead of asking her, he ran his fingers below her eyes, wiping the tears that were threatening to escape.

He embraced and kissed her some more, and they eventually they moved closer to the bed.

"Are you sure, Fenris?" Hawke said between heavy breaths.

He nodded, moving his hands down to the buckle of her robe, pausing and waiting for permission to unfasten it.

She smiled. "It's okay." She guided his hands around the buckle, undoing the clasp and letting it fall to the floor.

Her finery followed, exposing her body in only her smallclothes.

She was even more beautiful than Fenris thought possible. He then did the same to her, guided her hands to help take off his armor.

Eventually they both stood there, pressed against each other. He felt her warmth and comfort. Her understanding. His lyrium markings where not hurting him at all. At the most, they tingled from her touch. It was a relief that he could stand there, exposed, and not have any worries.

He cupped her jaw, tentatively bringing her lips to his once more. They collapsed on the bed, removing the last of their clothing and succumbing to their desires.

But when they were in the midst, he began to remember.

A red haired young elf girl hugged him. He knew her. His... sister? Varania? Both her and their mother looked almost identical. Varania and he used to play in their master's garden while their mother worked. He remembered a brown ball flying past his face there... _"Leto, duck!" _And his mother... she always sang to him when he was falling asleep, her words like gentle waves caressing the sand on the beach. She worked hard, harder than any slave he had ever known.

Then Danarius coming for him. But he followed... willingly? His mother and sister hugged him goodbye, and he was lead into a dark chamber with a mirror on the ceiling. He stared at his reflection, an elf with black hair and an innocent yet determined expression. He was terrified. They brought the lyrium closer to his flesh-

And everything was gone. That had lasted no more than a moment. He remembered... everything. Now he could not recall any of it. Only what he was thinking. Did he really have a mother and sister? He could not remember their faces.

But despite that, this was the greatest experience he ever had. When they finished, they laid there, not saying a word. Hawke rested her head on Fenris's chest, his arm draped lovingly around her.

He closed his eyes, taking in her beauty and her scent. The hate was _almost_ pushed out, only for a moment. Then his accursed memories decided to manifest themselves.

He thought back to when he first received his lyruim markings. The magisters enchanted it so he would forget his life before they were carved into his body. The pain he went through to get them was beyond anything he had ever felt. What he just did... with Hawke... was the complete opposite of receiving them.

Hawke. She was looking up at him through her eyelashes. "Is everything okay, Fenris?" She was slowly tracing the swirling design of his markings, bringing shivers to wherever she touched.

No. He just remembered everything from before the markings. And now it was all... gone. Danarius did this to him. _Magic_ did this to him.

Anger boiled inside his chest. This would not be sated until Danarius was dead, and he knew that. But the hate would always be there. It would always be pricking and nagging at his mind, never resting. And what if he took it out on Hawke again?

By Andraste, what was he thinking? He was in no place to be with someone like Hawke. With someone at all.

Pain replaced the anger in his chest. It was going to destroy him only if Danarius didn't get the chance to first. But he had to do it. He had no choice.

But how was Hawke going to react? If she felt the same way he did, then he would never forgive himself for inflicting on her that much pain. Though, if she hated him, it would be easier to deal with. It would be better for her. There was enough sadness in her life; she did not need to be bombarded with any more.

"Fenris," she caressed his face. "Are you all right?"

The amount of concern in her expression almost broke him. "Yes," he lied.

"Good." She kissed his lips and smiled. "I'm going to change into my smallclothes in case Bodahn or Sandal come in. Stay."

She left his embrace and the bed. Fenris still felt her warmth from where she was lying. What he would give to stay with her. He watched as she dressed, her beautiful form illuminated by the firelight. When she finished, she climbed back into his arms and continued to trace his markings.

"Can I ask you something?" Hawke lifted her head to look at his face.

"Ask me what?" He silently prayed that it wasn't something about what had just happened.

"A question."

"Hawke," he grumbled.

She smiled and winked. "Please don't rip my heart out or anything, but I'm curious…"

He braced himself.

"…how did the lyrium not kill you? I mean, it would seem that after being injected with such a toxic thing, that you would be poisoned, or something of the sort."

"The markings only go skin-deep. Lyrium is only deadly if you somehow ingest it, or if it's red lyrium. But even then, it takes a lot to kill you."

Her voice was barely below a whisper, "I'm sorry, Fenris."

They laid there for what seemed like hours, until Hawke's hand became still, and quiet snores escaped from her mouth.

It was now or never. He had to leave before she woke.

He quickly and quietly shuffled out from under her, cold air replacing where she had been. He grabbed his armor from off the floor and changed into it once again.

The red fabric and shield were all that were left. Should he keep them?

He looked at Hawke. She was so peaceful, so relaxed. It was rare to ever see her like this. She was so beautiful.

And he would never have her again.

He tied the red fabric around his wrist and fastened the Amell crest to his belt. They were the only pieces of her that he ever was going to have again. The life ahead of him, without Hawke, was one of the worst things he had ever imagined.

He stared into the fire, remembering what had just happened. He would never forget it. Pain throbbed in his chest. He needed to leave.

"Was it that bad?" Hawke's voice startled him out of his thoughts. No, she awoke before he left. How was he going to explain? She needed to hate him.

"I'm sorry, it's not... it was fine," Fenris struggled for words.

She quickly averted her eyes, hurt striking her expression.

He couldn't see her like this. "No. That is insufficient. It was better than anything I could have dreamed." He couldn't help but smile, wondering if she knew the amount of truth that came from that statement.

The hurt was replaced with concern. "Your markings... they hurt don't they."

"It's not that." In fact, they did not hurt at all. It was the pain in his chest that overpowered anything he felt. "I began to remember. My life before. Just flashes... It's too much. This is too fast. I cannot... do this." It was a plea.

She sat up on the bed. "Your life before? What do you mean?"

He thought of the best way to explain. "I've never remembered anything from before the ritual. But there were... faces. Words. For just a moment, I could recall all of it. And then it slipped away." His mother, sister, something about a garden.

A mischievous grin swept across her face. "If it brings your memory back, maybe we need to do it more often."

"Perhaps you don't realize how upsetting this is. I've never remembered anything, and to have it all come back in a rush, only to lose it..." he again almost broke. "I can't..." _Bear the thought of living without you. _"I can't."

"We can work through this." The longing that emanated through her voice made the pain grow deeper and stronger.

"I'm sorry, I feel like such a fool. All I wanted was to be happy... just for a little while. Forgive me." _Please._

Fenris quickly turned and left before he could see her expression. In his chest... this was no longer pain. This was emptiness. A part of him was not missing; it was he as a whole that was gone.

He stumbled down the stairs and out of Hawke's estate as fast as he could. It was completely dark outside with no moon to shed any light.

When he finally reached his mansion, he collapsed.

This was beyond question the hardest thing he'd ever done. He would rather go through the process of getting his markings a thousand times over again than leave her.

She was the only one he could talk to, the only one that understood him. He always enjoyed her company, he couldn't recall a time where it was ever dull. She listened to him talk countless times about his life in slavery, and was always intrigued whenever he rambled on about his time with the Fog Warriors.

He also understood her. She wanted the best for people, even if that sometimes meant going to drastic measures to achieve her goals. He always had no quarrel in following her into any situation, including when she was going to help mages. The pain she felt when she lost her father, brother, and now sister, was always clouding around her. It was slowly dissipating, but it was always going to be there, and he knew what it was like, to lose almost everyone you cared about, and feel almost completely alone.

Especially since the only one he had left was the enemy.


End file.
